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My head spins, my heart so full it’s ready to burst, but with everything he’s saying to me, everything coming at me so fast, my mind focuses on the last words out of his mouth. “Why don’t you care about the prenup?”
“Because I know you’re nothing like my ex, that you’re the most giving person I know and you don’t care about my name or money. You care about the person behind all those things—you care about me. The prenup is simply a tradition, something that has been in my family for generations. I never even really thought about how it would make you feel. I’m an idiot like that sometimes.”
“You’re not an idiot, Roman, and I didn’t know it was tradition,” I say, my heart pounding so hard, I’m a little light-headed. “When I saw it, I thought...”
“I know what you thought, and I’m sorry. I never meant to do anything that made you feel like that lost girl from your childhood. The one who was afraid she wasn’t enough and would never be enough. I never meant for you to think I wanted you to sign the prenup because I didn’t trust you. I do trust you, Peyton. You’re everything to me and to my family. You’re kind, sweet, giving and so goddamn lovable that when I found the villa empty—” he shakes his head, agony all over his face “—it broke my damn heart. At first, I couldn’t understand it. I thought you were done with me, thought you were discarding me because you didn’t need me to be your husband anymore. I jumped to conclusions because of past hurts, but then I recognized that’s not something you would ever do. I called Cason and realized the prenup brought back past hurts for you, too.”
“It did, and I’m sorry, too, Roman. You’ve been nothing but sweet and helpful, and you showed me I have value, made me feel important.”
He once confessed that helping me was more about me and less about my brother. Everything in his touch and actions told me he cared. After reading the prenup, I didn’t want to believe him anymore, and I expected him to hurt me like everyone else. Self-preservation and a childhood in the system does that to a person. But there was a part of me that always believed him...believed in him. I was just so afraid. But I don’t have to be afraid anymore.
“The prenup... I don’t know, it just reminded me that I should never let myself believe in fairy tales, because...”
“Because there’s still a part of you that believes you’re not enough. But you have to let that go. You’re everything. You’re more than everything.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “The truth is,
Peyton, you can take care of yourself, I know that, but all I want to do is protect you and give you the world.” His throat makes a noise and he puts a hand on my face. “I don’t want to live without you. Correction, I can’t live without you.”
“You can’t?”
“No.” Eyes full of love and sorrow study my face. My heart races and happy tears full of joy spill down my cheeks. “Can you let me do that?”
“All I ever wanted from you was your love, Roman. Those other things aren’t important to me.”
He smiles. “Is that your way of saying you love me?”
“Of course I love you,” I blurt out. “I’ve always loved you. For as long as I can remember I loved you.”
“Then say yes.”
“No,” I say, and he falls back onto his heels.
Fear and sadness invade his dark eyes. “No?”
“No, if it’s tradition, then I want to sign the prenup. I didn’t know that before. I thought it was about me, but it’s not, it’s about your family and tradition and I want to respect that.”
He smiles, stands and pulls me to him. “Right there, Peyton. That’s why I don’t want you to sign it.”
I take a big breath, about to answer him, then glance up to see our families. “Wait,” I say. “Why is everyone here?”
“Because if you say yes, I want to get married this very second. All the arrangements have been made.”
“Oh.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, oh, and I’m not the only one out here holding my breath here, Peyton. My sisters can’t wait until they can call you sister, Mamma can’t wait to call you her new daughter, and I can’t wait to call you my wife.”
I put one hand on my hips and shake my head. “You just took it upon yourself to make arrangements without consulting me?”
“I just thought—”
I throw my hands out, palms up, and those watching must think we’re fighting. “And never considered if I wanted it to be on a beach or a church, or a... I don’t know, somewhere else,” I say, totally pressing his buttons and wanting to frustrate him.
“This is where your school is going to be built, I thought you’d like—”
“What about where I want to live?”
“If you liked Malta, I thought you’d like—”
“You thought I’d like all of this, did you? Maybe I don’t like any of this, Roman. Maybe I hate it.”
